You took out his eyes? That’s next level.” Lazlo sounds impressed. “We didn’t take out his eyes,” I insist, shooting a worried glance at Darius. “Xander must have done it after I left.” “No way,” Lazlo counters. “Xander doesn’t like dealing with eyes. He thinks they’re all squishy and gross and keep looking at you.” “He has an eye phobia?” A surprised laugh bubbles out of me. “Seriously?” The man who planned a neurosurgeon’s death is squeamish about eyeballs?
